Eight
by Serendipily
Summary: A series of Makorra drabbles. Light M
1. Chapter 1

**Behalf**

He knows she's beyond this lifetime. She's beyond him and the incognizant life he's scrapped together. But he knows he'll die a thousand different lifetimes if it means each time they would be together.

**Assistance**

"Poor baby," she coos, rubbing one hand over his freshly wounded head (she's at fault here. She was the one who slammed it against the locker). He lets out a soft groan, still burning, still reeling from the brutal hand down the front of his trouser and the tongue on his neck. "I'll help you with that," she whispers, running sloppy kisses across his jaw.

**Idle**

It's the look Bolin dotes on Asami when she's flying down the racetrack. The quiet one shared between Tenzin and Pema when they're doing the dishes after dinner. It's the sparkle in her father's eyes when her mother laughs.

It's the look Mako gives her when he thinks no ones looking, as if he's set himself to be alone and wanting for the rest of his life.

**Gravitation**

Everything in her is screaming for defeat. The rain that mixes with her blood stings her skin raw, and her mind repeats, fall, fall, fall … but one look at the defeated bender in her arms makes her heart chant, fight, fight, fight ….

**Afterthought**

He kisses her sweaty temple, silently berating himself for forgoing protection in the heat of things. She shakes him out of his thoughts with her quiet hum of satisfaction, the heady scent of sex dies down, and all he can't bring himself to be remorseful because all he can think about – if it ever happens - is how perfectly his hand would fit over the curve of her swollen belly.

**Unearth**

They've managed to sleep in fifteen minutes till their allotted gym time (how was that even possible? He'd set three alarm clocks!) Suddenly, the three of them are a flock of pigkens with their heads chopped off making a mad scramble around the apartment. Arm pads, helmets, practice t-shirts are flung to one another. Mako tosses Bolin a cold bun, and Korra sweeps past him, arms full of gear, and snatches the one in Mako's hands with her mouth.

He allows himself to be stunned for half a second, but shakes it off, blaming the chaos of morning, and plops his own bun into his mouth, pulling his sock on with the other.

**Havoc**

It's one of those fights that escalates to screaming. The screaming prompts the name calling, and the name calling catapults into the various smashed objects between them.

Finally, Korra throws her hands up in the air, because _Spirits_, he's frustrating and she's fed up. "That's it, Hot Head. You. Me. Agni Kai. Meet me outside in ten minutes."

**Tidings**

"Uh …. Thanks?"

He would have casually tossed … whatever it was aside and leave it forgotten, if it weren't for two things. One: Korra's hurt feelings would manifest as physical violence and he would expect a nice blue and purple shiner the next morning. Two: She just looked so _damned_ please with herself; all bright eyed and beaming because "Look, Mako! I made this for you. Do you like it? Do you like it? _Do you like it_?"

He bit back his smile, shaking his head. That clever (his clever) idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Champagne**

It's fluted and bubbly, and a bad idea.

But he'll catch her through every slip and fall and stumble, trying the best he can to hide his own drunken stupor.

**Note**

"Need meat. Gone fishing. – Mako and Korra (scratched out) Korra and Mako"

Two days later, they came back, ecstatic, reeking of armadillo bear spit, a new firebending form in tow.

**Voyage**

"Do you know why I like the ferry?"

She refuses to meet his eyes, her lips jut out in a pout (and despite what he says, she insists it's _not_ adorable). He catches her stubborn hand anyway, happy enough when she doesn't pull away.

"Because no matter where you are on the dock, you can always see it coming."

His thumb rubs gentle circles over her knuckle.

"And you always know it'll come back."

**Kilt**

"I don't care if it's tradition! I'm not wearing it!" he shouts at her, and her bemused smirk is not helping his temper. He knows it's fruitless, and he'll be wearing it anyways, but spirits-be-damned if he loses this without a fight.

**Tip**

He's pretty sure, in whatever dark recesses of the Avatar's mind, she sits back and finds way to torture him.

This becomes more apparent when she places her hands on his hip, in a half hearted attempt to fix his horse stance.

**Gibberish**

She posed the question "Do you think friendships can outstand lifetimes?" out of the blue; as if she made a remark about the weather. He gripes for thought, his tongue unable to unravel the words, but really, how hard is it to say "Yes"? He instead fumbles over some meandering rationality that technically speaking, the spirit-

Korra thumped him on the back of his head, in the middle of his half-hearted spiel. 'Just hold my hand, wouldya?"

**Camp**

"I never want to sleep outside again," he admits into the crook of her neck, where he's safe from her widening eyes and ever easing realization.

She doesn't press any further, instead kissing his bare shoulder and pulling the thin blanket over them.

**Weak(ness)**

She loves his bike.

She loves the way she could wrap her arms around his thin waist, pushing, molding herself to his back. She loved the feeling - the surge of thrill as they streamed down the pavement. Zooming between Satomobiles, dipped into tunnels, pulling into stoplights; it's her favorite feeling.

She buries herself into his beige overcoat, inhaling the thick scent of soap and fire, and _Mako_, letting the world fly beneath her feet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bargain**

Bolin makes an offhanded comment about how he feels a draft around his ankles, and Mako knows its time to make a visit to the West District.

Korra invites herself, and what would have been a simple task of picking up a few new trousers for Bolin and maybe a few for himself, turns into a full day of Korra insisting that she teach him to haggle. (What can he say? He's a born natural at it)

**Alcohol**

Years ago, he and Bolin would try to see (sneak into) a movie once a week. He remembers the tinkering black and white stories with fondness. During a particular weary half-sober episode, Mako vows that he and Korra will have these magic movie moments. It'll be raining (because everything is more romantic in the rain) and he'll sweep her off her feet, gather her into his arms, stare deeply into her blue eyes, and boom, hook, line, and sinker, they'll embrace passionately.

In reality, she pulls him into the alleyway of the bar (it's not raining. It smells like smoke, garbage, and stale liquor), and they make out against a brick wall for a half an hour.

She tastes like firewhiskey. He thinks it's better than the movies.

**Wind**

He watches her, careful and ever changing, a leaf in the wind. It reminds him only for a second, that she isn't rooted to one lifetime, but to every single one.

**Temptation**

Korra's known Mako long enough to know some of his mannerisms. When she lodges an earth disc too close to his head during practice, he barely dodges it. His eyes narrow into a glare, arms tense, jaw locked, and she knows he's biting the very inside of his lip to keep his temper under control.

She smirks, and pacifies the shiver that threatens to run down her spine. She wants to take that bottom lip into her mouth and bite it.

**Beneath**

When Mako tops, he's gentle, tender, and soft. When Korra tops, she's everything but.

**Redecorate**

He's not amused when she decides it's time for him to adopt a new hairstyle. Glaring at the mirror, the blue beads woven through his hair in half hearted loopies make him call upon something heavier than revenge.

**Battle**

After fruitless promises of lychee juice, fresh steamed pork buns, and mangoes handpicked from the depths of the Earth Kingdom go up in flames with no luck, Mako gives up bargaining and grabs her roughly by the ankle attempting to kick him.

"Korra, I don't care how early it is. We have the gym in a half an hour and we're going even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

**Rhythm **

"Trust me," she cries over the pounding of the big band. They're hand in hand as she drags him to the center of the dance floor. In the crowd of inebriated dancers, Mako begins to feel self-conscious. "Korra, I don't know about thi-"

She raises her arms in front of her, quirking an eyebrow at him. He _knows_ that look; that glint in her eyes, and he relaxes, because he feels it. It's just an offense combo, he tells himself. Just like sparring.

"Trust me," she repeats, a quiet murmur, hidden beneath the blaring jazz and loud people. It's demure and only meant for him. He throws caution, like a leaf to the wind, and follows her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Proof**

"See, I told you!" Korra cried, triumphant

Mako wretched his mouth open to rekindle forgotten irritation, to make a playful retort, to anything, but stopped when he saw the gleam in her eyes. Nothing in the cave shone brighter, not even the sparkling jade gems hanging overhead in the convex walls, than her eyes – still beaming with such ecstatic pride. He closed his mouth, happy to find that the slight taste of her lips still lingered on his own.

**Misquoted**

It's two thirty in the morning and Mako pegged it to be an appropriate time to serenade her in a drunken stupor.

"The last part to Secret Tunnel is "And Diiiiiie!" you idiot!" She screamed from her second story window, into the dense fog of smog and Republic City night life.

"Shuddup!" Mako slurred from the street "I know howda' songs swings!"

It was everything but romantic.

**Arrest(ed)**

He pulls his thumb out of his mouth with a wet sticky _pop_, and it does nothing to sate the burning that still reels below her naval.

"Do you think you've learned your lesson, Miss?"

A low chuckle murmurs through her throat, down her chest, and she shakes her head. "No Officer," she whispers, "I think you might have to take me in, to do some _hard time_."

He snorts, kissing the inside of her thigh.

**Dull**

For once, the wound didn't look bad enough for how much it hurt. Her words, though soft, and in kind, did nothing to soften the rejection that scorched him alive.

_("I think we should – I mean, I still really, well I still - … if you'll still have me, I'll be yours") _

**Fancy**

He rubbed an awkward hand behind his neck, unable to confide his discomfort anywhere else. "Look, it's nothing fancy, and I know it's not exactly like the South Pole, but-"

At that moment, there must have been a strong gust of wind because he's knocked over, flat on his back, and out of breath. The wind must have hit Korra too, because she winds up on top of him, hugging the ever-living spirits out of his torso.

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She half squealed, half shrieked, She pulled him roughly by the shoulders, and smashed her mouth against his with a loud "mwah" and then she's scrambling off him, in a giddy haze, homesickness at bay.

Mako blinked. Well, that was … something.

**Frozen**

In compound in the South Pole, there were times where Korra had wanted nothing more than to run away, like her predecessor, and cloak herself in an eternity of ice. If for nothing else, it would numb her loneliness.

But now, sitting in the packed noodle house, sandwiched between her happy-go-lucky Earthbender, her gear-headed-heiress-best-friend, and her team captain with a bad attitude, she would happily give up a lifetime in ice, if it meant she could stretch these moments just a little longer.

Silent

It hits in him surge. Her pain, swimming in a spiraling vortex of thousands of years of anger and anguish, makes him deaf to everything else.

**Eighteen**

The day she turned eighteen, was the day Korra knew she was ready.

"Hey, City Boy," she purred, tiptoeing two fingers along the collar of his shirt, down his shoulder blade. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level …"

She watched him swallow thickly, the lump in his throat bobbing up and down, as he spluttered a shaky "N-next level?"

"Yes …" Korra whispered, voice like honey.

She leaned in close, her hot breath on his earlobe. "Let's go penguin sledding …."


End file.
